


Be My Cherry Blossom

by Winterswild



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Boys In Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flowers, Friends to Lovers, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Shounen-ai, Spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29678415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterswild/pseuds/Winterswild
Summary: Piccolo visits Gohan's new apartment, and as the spring chases the winter away, they fall in love.
Relationships: Piccolo/Son Gohan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Be My Cherry Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> M/M - non explicit romantic one-shot
> 
> I don't own DragonBall Z

“What do you think?”

Piccolo once again surveyed his surroundings in badly disguised disinterest, hoping something would come to his mind by way of a reply. Nothing did. His voice seemed overly deep and loud in the small room.

“It doesn’t matter what I think”

“You’re my best friend, of course it matters!”

Piccolo grunted and uncrossed his arms at the comment, it bewildered him why Gohan insisted on putting him on a pedestal. Didn’t he have a girlfriend to put up there?

“As long as you like it... _ you’re _ the one who has to live here”

He said it as if Gohan had brought him to a condemned sewage plant and not his new apartment on the edge of the City. The younger man sighed and fussed around in the kitchenette, grabbing a soft drink and a bottle of spring water from his little fridge. The door wouldn’t shut properly so he first bent it, then shoved it back and the whole thing collided with the wall. The Namek smirked at the demi-Saiyan’s irritated face while he opened the cap.

“If you lived in the forest, you wouldn’t have that problem”

“You don’t even live in the forest, you pretend to. _ You  _ live in a palace on the Lookout”

He jabbed a finger into Piccolo’s sternum, while Piccolo scowled, to drive his point home. It made him grunt in surprise at the strength and rubbed it, feeling that it may even bruise later. As soon as Gohan saw the thought cross his mentor’s face, he knew that Piccolo would be mentioning his training, or lack thereof, in 3...2...

“You haven’t been training”

He chuckled at the taller man’s stern expression. His power had always been difficult to control but he had a handle on it, he just sometimes forgot when he was comfortable and around the other warriors. Not that Piccolo needed much encouragement to bring the topic up. 

“No, but I will be over summer. I’ve got my thesis to finish first and I’ll be working too, ya know”

_ Not that you’d know what that’s like, you freeloader. _

Piccolo grumbled, looking around the apartment once again. It was modest, simple and full of things he didn’t consider important, like paintings and little candle holders. The scene reminded him of the cultural chasm between him and everyone else he knew, and the strange things that they held close to their heart. He felt uncomfortable. Gohan sensed the awkwardness coming and gestured for Piccolo to take a seat on the sofa. 

“I’d prefer to stand”

The demi-Saiyan sighed, again, and found himself doing it more often than not around the older man. Leaving home and starting his postgraduate studies had changed his little world, yet again, and the complexities of real life were shoved under his nose. No longer could he frolic in the forest fishing with his dad all day or study at home with bluebirds singing outside his window. As he matured, the world had taken on a shade of grey that he couldn’t squint away, and with it, the nuance of his mentor’s behaviour had become more evident to him. Perhaps because he was looking for it now, analysing it, since he was in his twenties and wanted their friendship to develop as he himself had. 

The Namek walked softly to the window and regarded the partial view. The city had started to shift its gear from daytime to twilight and little lights were appearing and wavering far in the distance. He would never voice it, but he loved this time of day. When the air started to chill and that cerulean blue grew darker still, and people started putting on their lamps and stoves for the evening. As a hatchling he had stared into the distance at those flickering lights, through windows and far up over the horizon, probably entertaining thoughts of being inside one of those houses, being close to one of those warm lights. He blinked the thought away, instead looking down at the window sill where a framed photo of the Son family sat. His claws scratched the edge of the black frame as he picked it up and he grumbled, knowing that humans made a fuss out of things like damaged property. Goku, Chi-chi, Gohan and Goten were all grinning like they were the only family on Earth that had experienced true happiness. He put the picture down. Perhaps they were.

Gohan joined him at the window, smiling out at the little view he had found for himself. He knew that the Namek would be planning to leave soon so he spoke quickly.

“Will you stay a while?”

Piccolo turned to look down at those smiling mahogany eyes, and regretted it. 

“Sure”

With that, Gohan’s face broke into a wide, handsome grin and Piccolo looked away. He turned but his shoulder pad knocked a painting on the wall askew and the younger man laughed. 

“Maybe take that off when you’re inside?”

He posed the comment as a question, but there was no question, he was instructing Piccolo to take it off. The Namek sneered, aside from her temper, the boy had also picked up Chi-chi’s habit of telling you what to do whilst patting you on the back with a smile. He acquiesced only because this was Gohan’s apartment and not his own, and he didn’t want to find out if Gohan had also acquired an assortment of cookware to clobber him with. 

His turban was removed as well and he placed them both on the floor, by the door. Gohan went about straightening things up whilst Piccolo watched with a raised brow. Perhaps cushion plumping was something that all people do to excess when they own their first home, he had never paid that much attention. Gohan went into what Piccolo assumed was the bedroom and retrieved two garishly coloured floor cushions and placed them at either side of the coffee table. The Namek rolled his eyes but sat down, crossing his legs and Gohan disappeared to prepare some tea. 

Piccolo couldn’t help but hear every single thing Gohan did, including humming and muttering to himself. He smiled a little at the younger man’s little sounds, sounds that had changed in pitch since he had last heard them, had it been so long? He supposed he hadn’t spent any time with the other male in close quarters since they trained together for the Androids. Over a decade ago. He had changed so much and he felt like he couldn’t remember much of the time in between. They had been in each other’s company often enough over the past year, in one way or another, but not together, inside, like this. China cups landed on the table and Gohan proceeded to pour them both some red hued tea. It was so normal and human that Piccolo instantly felt like an interloper in the civilised world. His long fingers and sharp claws made holding the tiny cup awkward and he cradled it like it contained a living creature.

Gohan wanted to say it out loud but wasn’t sure how it would be received, but he was having a fantastic time. Even in relative silence he felt elated and pleasant, his tummy warming with both the tea and Piccolo’s company. He wanted the Namek to visit more often and mulled over how to persuade him without him knowing about it. Not to be deceitful, but to be tactful. The Namekian warrior might even be impressed with his cunning if he weren’t the unwitting victim of it. 

“Would you mind coming by tomorrow?”

Piccolo hesitated, sipping the fragrant tea. 

“I don’t mind, but why?”

Gohan considered telling an elaborate tale and pulled at his blue jumper, he couldn’t just come out and say that he liked his company. Could he? Should he? He wasn’t a teenager anymore and so he stole himself, and opted for something close to the truth.

“I guess i’d just like to see more of you”

The Namek glanced down into his pink tea, in case the bittersweet water had any coherent thoughts on the matter. It didn’t and if Piccolo were honest, the boy’s request made his cold heart flutter. 

“I see...Alright”

Gohan smiled into his cup at the smooth, rumbling bass, while his quick brain set about reconfiguring his week to accommodate his best friend more often. He thought about all the things that they could do that Piccolo would be amenable to, then decided not to bother, since that list came up quite short. They could sit and have tea or share a meal or just talk. The Namek didn’t converse a great deal but he knew that the taller man listened, even when he pretended not to. 

“I mean, since I broke up with Videl - I haven’t seen much of anyone up here”

Ebony eyes glanced up at that. He hadn’t realised, had assumed that they would just get married and proceed to have children and live happily ever after. Not for a moment had Piccolo even thought to ask after the boy’s budding relationship. 

“I didn’t realise…”

His comment trailed off, not knowing what to say but Gohan saved his lingering sentence.

“It’s fine, we just weren’t that compatible, in the end”

_ Because I’m in love with you. _

Gohan left that part out, but Videl had come near enough to the truth that the demi-Saiyan had nearly burst into tears. Was he throwing his lovely Videl and his relationship away for unrequited love? Why yes, he was. He had no choice, he couldn’t love her the way she deserved. Instead, He sentenced his heart to be forever imprisoned in a nightmare of distant fantasy and impossible affection. Gohan sighed, mourning his own predicament. He wished that his family hadn’t banged on about being honest so much, then maybe he could have just ignored it or tried harder to love her. 

Piccolo stood abruptly, clearly reaching the end of his patience and most likely, the extent of his vocabulary. Gohan stood as well and there was an apology and a scuffle when Gohan tried to walk the Namek out but instead collided into his left hip. Piccolo looked at him oddly but the demi-Saiyan continued his mission and opened the door like a gentleman. Scooping up his weighted gear, Piccolo exited and dismissed the boy’s behaviour as part of the mother hen thing he had been doing all evening. 

\----

Piccolo dropped from the sky with still a mile to walk to Gohan’s apartment; he didn’t want to cause him any issues by flying directly to the younger man’s door. The late afternoon had become muggy and the Namek glanced up at the grey clouds, some dark and some fading into the white sky, shuffling quickly to rain down somewhere else. His loping gait meant he made good time even whilst strolling, ignoring any odd looks he received from the passersby. He had modified his gi to include long sleeves and a cloak with a hood that might better disguise his unique appearance. It had been obvious to Piccolo that Gohan wanted this to become a regular occurrence and so he had resigned himself to it. The least he could do was not cause any ruckus for the young man by flaunting his friendship with the former Demon King. As it turned out, the hooded cloak was useful because the clouds did finally collapse and release an almighty torrent of rain. 

He climbed the outdoor steps two at a time, thankful the apartment had an external entrance on the second floor. Long fingers drew the hood down and he raised a fist to knock on the door but it was opened before his hand could collide. Gohan’s smile was so genuine and delighted that Piccolo had to shove down the urge to match it, instead offering a smaller, reserved smile in greeting. 

“I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would”

Piccolo chuckled at that, the boy never had managed to shift that natural insecurity. 

“I said I would didn’t I?”

He removed the now sodden cloak and Gohan all but snatched it from his hands in an effort to be a good host. The radiators were on this time, with spring just around the corner, and he hung it over the one in the cloakroom to dry. He observed the adjusted gi, hanging closer to his tall frame and covering his arms, perhaps to make him look smaller. Gohan hadn’t realised his mentor felt quite so conspicuous around the humans still, but he knew better than to mention it. 

“Take a seat?”

Piccolo grimaced at another one of those ‘do what I say’ questions but did as he was asked, onto that purple and gold floor cushion that looked bizarre with the decor. Gohan had worked nearly all day at the lab, enjoying his new role as a research assistant but had only just arrived home when he sensed his mentor’s approach. He thought about regaling Piccolo with the minutiae of his day but dismissed the idea. 

“I sensed you training earlier, I forgot how strong you are”

The Namek regarded his companion with contempt, not realising that Gohan was just trying to compliment him, rather than be sarcastic. 

“I’d be surprised if  _ you  _ remember how to fight at all”

Warm brown eyes fell at the comment and Piccolo immediately felt like shit for it.

“I guess I have let my training slide lately...maybe you’d help get me back into shape?”

Gohan hoped the suggestion would make his mentor happy but also buy him more time to spend with the Namek. Sharp fangs appeared as Piccolo smiled.

“If you think you can keep up, kid, you’re welcome to try”

The younger man laughed heartily at Piccolo’s warmer mood and challenging words. An image of the Namek breathing heavy and sweating, with that fighter’s glint in his pretty, dark eyes made him flush pink and he turned to busy himself with the kettle. He willed his wild mind to calm down, it was bad enough that he had thought of nothing but the jade man all night in bed. He felt like a teenager all over again. The kettle whistled its tune and Piccolo pressed hands to his ears while Gohan poured their tea, peppermint this time. The Namek was sat, cross legged and waiting patiently when it eventually arrived at the coffee table. Gohan suddenly felt nervous, like he had maybe bitten off more than he could chew. This didn’t feel like an ordinary tea. Was he trying to date Piccolo without his friend knowing about it? Was that okay? It felt immoral.

Obsidian eyes regarded the younger warrior as he messed around serving the tea, his tanned cheeks were flushed and he looked stricken. Piccolo idly wondered if the invitation hadn’t been genuine, though it had seemed so at the time. The rain’s tickle against the window increased as the afternoon turned dark before its time. He raised the cup to his mouth and his ears flickered at the unusual, sharp taste; it was delicious and there was a sweet, woody aftertaste that reminded him of eucalyptus. To ease the scholar’s mood he complimented it.

“It’s pleasant, what is it”

Gohan smiled, relief washing over him.

“Oh, it’s a peppermint infusion with...uh, cocoa and herbs I think”

Piccolo’s ears flickered again and Gohan watched them with fascination. Had he not noticed them moving before? Perhaps he just never looked, or they weren’t eye level that often. It certainly wasn’t happening during their spars. The Saiyan looked down at the other’s attire and wondered if this was just what a casual Piccolo looked and acted like. He looked relaxed, comfortable even, and Gohan felt his chest contract at the possibility that he might be the reason for it. The taller man went to such lengths to keep himself distant and reserved that Gohan felt like he was looking through a special lens that only he had, and he wanted to keep it. His heart hurt. Maybe having Piccolo round more often would do more harm than good, in fact, he strongly suspected that would be the case. The Namekian listened intently to the rain whilst Gohan remained lost in his own thoughts, he found the sound soothing and missed the echo of it outside his cave whilst he meditated. The sound of Mr Popo watering the plants turned out to be a poor facsimile. 

A gentle rumble made them both look towards the window, waiting for a flash, watching with interest like every humanoid does. The Namekian didn’t really like the noise, it felt far too loud on his ear drums, like the weather was taking residence inside his head. Gohan wished they were sitting side by side and driven by a sudden impulse, he stood and moved his cushion to sit next to Piccolo. The Namek watched from his periphery, he didn’t mind but felt like he should, it would be expected that he would say something; but he said nothing. The dense weight of the Saiyan leaned against his side and he didn’t even lean away from it. He was past denying that he sometimes craved company and enjoyed the contact but he wasn’t ready for Gohan to know that. So he said nothing and performed his typical routine of ignoring anything he didn’t want to deal with.

Gohan drew his knees up and sighed in contentment, knowing that Piccolo was being unusually amenable. He wondered if something might have happened for the other man to be so quietly friendly. His brown eyes turned to regard the other man but he had slipped into meditation and Gohan smiled softly, revelling in the ease and trust of their relationship. He grabbed the book he had been reading from underneath the table and turned to lean his back and shoulders completely on the Namek’s side, knowing, somehow, that it wouldn’t be a problem, and turned to page 105. 

Several delightful hours passed and Gohan eventually immersed himself in the text but occasionally his mind did wander to a particular fantasy that kept cropping up to haunt him at the worst time; smoothing his hands down long, wet legs wrapped around him in a bubble bath. He adjusted his hips to keep his reaction to his mind’s vivid imagery concealed, and pushed on with his book. As the night spread into the living room, Gohan stood and stretched his legs and arms before putting the lamp on. 

“I’m going to order some food for us”

Piccolo opened his eyes, cocking his head. He didn’t mind eating but rarely did, and certainly not what the humans called ‘take out’. At the look he received, Gohan scrambled to offer an alternative.

“Or I can cook!”

He moved to inspect the contents of his kitchen and managed to cobble together enough ingredients to make a decent meal. He had thought to stock in bulk for his appetite, at least. His mother had insisted that he learn how to cook well, to save Videl from a lifetime in the kitchen. She had taken the news of their breakup exactly as expected, like the worst thing that had ever happened. Goku had placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him for all of a minute before suggesting that they spar for a while, and that had been the end of it. His strong hands made quick work of roughly chopping chard, asparagus and kale, together with sweet potatoes. He placed a large bird in the oven and switched it on, he could eat the whole thing and then some, but he made plenty of vegetables for his companion. Piccolo had always been partial to a vegetarian diet, and absolutely despised eating eggs. He chuckled to himself at the memory.

Piccolo came to join Gohan in the kitchen, and actually took a seat on one of the bar stools, not really knowing what to do with himself. It had the added benefit that he could watch Gohan whilst he listened to him talk about his day at work, his family and what sauce did Piccolo want, would he want any, or just a few spices, or perhaps plain? Would he want any ice cream after or he could always try and bake an apple pie? Piccolo had to cut the babbling off.

“Whatever you want is fine”

Gohan laughed at himself and turned, crossing his arms and leaning against the countertop. His mentor looked funny seated on the stool, his tall frame ramrod straight and hands nestled in his lap. Gohan thought about leaning him over the bar and-

“What are you looking at?”

He flushed crimson and rapidly thought of a hundred things that would make a half decent lie but his lips wouldn’t co-operate. Instead he just stood there and the silence stretched on, until he filled it with more babble. 

“I just thought you looked...uh-”

_ Beautiful. _

“-Uncomfortable”

The explanation did not match the look on the boy’s face and Piccolo narrowed his dark eyes. 

“I’m fine”

Gohan giggled like a child then turned around to close his eyes and mutter a curse under his breath. He could feel the other man’s alien gaze bore into the back of his head. This became a regular habit, Piccolo would sit on the stool and listen to Gohan whilst he cooked. It became so common that Gohan started to refer to the other man as his partner when people asked him questions at work, he felt a little bad about it, but thought it harmless enough. 

\-----

Dende raised a brow at Piccolo as he left the Lookout, in his long sleeve garb and with a happy, content air about him. He visited Gohan three times a week, no more, no less, but Dende could clearly see that the Namek would spend every day there if he were able to put his pride aside. Of course, he rightly assumed that the older Namekian had no idea why he was spending so much time with Gohan, or what it might mean, or how it looked to anyone watching, as Dende was compelled to. He smiled fondly as Piccolo jumped from the Lookout. 

Piccolo arrived as usual, about a mile away, and started his walk towards the modern apartment block. Spring had finally made its noisy and bright arrival and the trees were whispering with vivid greens, whites and pinks. The park to the right looked beautiful and alive, so welcome that Piccolo didn’t even mind the sound of children laughing as they ran around pointlessly, sometimes gawking at his incredible height. Oddly, the older locals passing in the street had become used to him and he noticed that they barely registered his presence at all or, to his horror, smiled at him. He contemplated allowing Gohan to order food tonight, since he clearly wanted to for some time, and he had made considerable progress training at the weekend. Piccolo had been impressed to see bulk adding to the younger man’s frame, and that fighting spirit had returned, it made the Namek’s stomach tingle. 

He opened the unlocked door, a useful habit that Gohan had adopted on the days that his mentor would visit. A part of Piccolo knew that it was a little presumptuous, and awfully domestic, but he ignored that thought like all the rest. The warm scent of cinnamon and apples hit him as he entered and he smirked, Gohan had been baking again. Another habit the boy had taken up; he always presented the Namek with a new sweet dish to try, ever since he had shown an interest in the sweet teas all those weeks ago. Or had it been months? He wasn’t sure. Gohan’s handsome face greeted him at the door, hands in oven gloves as he came to take Piccolo’s cloak as he always did. As he removed the mits, he noticed that the material was a pale shade of violet this time, and lighter too, like the spring itself had touched it. Oddly enough, it had, and Gohan laughed warmly at Piccolo who stared at him, not understanding what was so funny.

“Piccolo, you’re _ covered _ in flowers”

The Namek looked down to see little white and pink petals on his gi, on the floor and even on his soft brown shoes. A violet blush crept down the tips of his ears and he knew it would be making its warm and embarrassing way across his cheek bones. He looked back up and straight at Gohan, who’s reddish mahogany eyes were sparkling in amusement as he brushed the petals from Piccolo’s tall, broad shoulders. The mirth in his eyes looked so happy and inviting that the Namek couldn’t tear his own away. Gohan’s kind laughter died down upon noticing the dark gaze and he left his hand on Piccolo’s left shoulder; the breeze cooling his fingertips where it trailed through the open door. So close, he could see where the violet had speckled high on handsome cheeks and the bridge of his delicate nose, could see his throat contract where the Namek swallowed nervously. Deep, dark, endless eyes that all in one moment said a thousand things. Gohan felt the air tickle and dare him on, because the Namek would stand there forever if he let him, but the gap begged to be closed. He gripped Piccolo for balance. With a rare confidence, and seeing that passion staring back at him in buckets, he licked his lips and leaned up on his tiptoes to kiss his blossom covered boy. 

**W.**  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> May write a sequel to this one


End file.
